Two Moons
by ugahill
Summary: Just a few moments after landing Atlantis safely on a new homeworld, John Sheppard reflects on what he and Atlantis have lost. Post-"Lifeline" story.


John emerged beneath the Control Room, glancing around at the ongoing flurry of activity. They hadn't stopped moving since Atlantis had flown; they wouldn't stop until everything was back in order again.

_As if it could be._

The light was on in the glassed-in office above him; he ignored it, focusing instead on Samantha Carter's calm voice as it floated over the hustle of the gateroom. He chanced a look into the control area; she was leaning over McKay, apparently puzzling out a problem with the DHD.

Rodney responded in a somewhat subdued manner, completely focused on the task at hand, tapping out the character sequence mechanically. The dim lights of the panel reflected across his face, casting an eerie blue pallor over his skin.

The chevrons on the gate began to lock into place and John moved quickly into the shadows of the main staircase, making his way towards the balcony at the top of the stairs. They'd been working on a connection back to Earth; in a few moments there would be a rush of activity as the SGC tried to sort everything out.

He didn't feel like dealing with any of it right now.

The door to the balcony slid shut with a whisper, silencing the muted cheer that rose through the gateroom as they connected. He stepped out, studying the sky above him, feeling numb. Dusky clouds shrouded most of the stars, though two round objects stood out amongst the haze, glowing red and brown.

_Two moons. That's kinda cool._

The air outside was chilly; the planet they'd landed on must have colder seas than on Lantea, or Atlantica, or whatever name they'd given their old home world.

_Lantea. Atlantica was Ford's word. Him and his stupid names for things._

Aiden's face flashed through his mind, and he moved towards the railing, trying to shake the memory. Beneath him, the choppy seas rolled tremulously below Atlantis's massive piers. They wouldn't be calm for a while, if they ever grew calm on this new planet. But the sound was the same, the soft rush of the water as it flowed across the ocean, lapping up against the metal planking.

The sound of the ocean. A sound they'd all grown accustomed to hearing, over the course of their time here. Something Elizabeth had loved.

A sharp rush of emotion broke through the numbness and he gritted his teeth, drowning himself in memory.

_John ambled onto the deck, feeling a bit woozy. He'd never suffered from motion sickness, but he had a distinct dislike of being confined for extended periods of time, even if confinement was the size of the Daedalus._

_He'd expected the deck to be mostly empty, but to his surprise a familiar figure was seated at the table, watching the lazy blue haze of hyperspace as it rolled past the windows of the ship._

_Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, a cup in her hand. "Hey, what are you doing up so late?"_

_He shrugged, dumping coffee into the galley's poor excuse for a mug. "Couldn't sleep. Must be the burden of command…you know, ever since I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel."_

_Elizabeth watched him slyly as he moved around the table and took a seat. "Alright, John…it's been almost a month. When are you going to stop trying to bring that up in every single conversation?"_

_He grinned at her. "You gotta understand—there's a lot of people in the Air Force who never thought I'd make it past Captain."_

_She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised. Her red turtleneck was zipped up, protection from the chilly air of space, but the glint of gold and diamond was no longer tucked beneath the folds. John had heard rumors she'd been seeing a doctor in Washington, but something must have happened, because the necklace she'd always worn was gone; he'd noticed it missing the moment they boarded the ship._

_Not that he blamed her partner, at least not off the top. Everyone attached to military—and that's what this expedition essentially was, whether Elizabeth referred to it that way or not—paid a price. Most of the time, it was a relationship, or a loved one who couldn't handle the pressure of being apart. A cold reality, but the truth._

_"Well," she said softly, interrupting his thoughts, "obviously the people whose opinions matter the most thought otherwise."_

_The remark caught him off-guard, and he couldn't say anything at first, just stared at her, a little astonished. She returned his gaze with one of her own, a soft smile, which told him more than he needed to know about who those 'people' were._

_"What about you?" he stuttered, trying to shake the odd feeling in his chest. "What you still doing up?"_

_"I think I got used to falling asleep to the sound of the ocean." A shadow passed across her face, sadness dimming the light in her bright green eyes. _

_He didn't blame her doctor, no. But he did wonder how in the world he could have let her walk away so easily. _

John leaned forward, placing his hands on the railing. The memory of that trip back home always stood out in his mind. He didn't know why—just the feeling that they were coming home, back to this particular place, was something he'd never let go of.

When he thought of Atlantis, he always thought of this—this balcony, this view. The first place he and Elizabeth really talked; the only place he could gain any sense of peace when things got crazy. This is what he had fought to come home to, whenever there seemed no way out, or no hope—it was always this he thought of first. He closed his eyes, gripping the cool metal.

_Doctor Weir was leaning up against the pillar, caught up in the vista. He held back, feeling a bit like a teenager waiting to give his school crush a gift. _

_She gave a little bit of a start, turning to glance at him. "Hey."_

_There wasn't any hiding it now. He moved forward, into the sunlight. "There you are."_

_"I was just sneaking a breath of fresh air. I thought you were off exploring the city."_

_"About to." John could barely contain the smile, presenting a velvet wrapped bundle he'd carried with him from the camp. "Picked this up on the mainland. The Athosians made it." One of her eyebrows rose as he presented it to her, uncertain of what else to say other than the obvious. "Happy Birthday."_

_The humored expression faded, and she looked at him a little accusingly as she took the bundle from his hands. "Hmm."_

_He tossed her a boyish grin as she unwrapped it, revealing a small ceramic jar. She'd had a 'thing' for folk art, she'd once said, and it was true if the rapidly growing collection in her office was any indication. John had seen one of the villagers crafting it during his last trip with Teyla to the mainland and thought immediately of her._

_She studied the ceramic in her hands, looking a little overwhelmed, and a little shy. "It's beautiful. How did you find out?"_

_His smile broadened. "Mum's the word."_

_She turned the jug over in her hands, a gentle grin curving her lips. She didn't have to say anymore; the expression was enough to let him know how she felt._

That ceramic jar had been on her desk, to this very day. It was there now, and would be, until someone got the chance to pack her things away. He knew it held meaning for her; she'd used it as an urn to carry the ashes of her 'other' self—the one who had given her life to save them.

_A shock at first, that whole time-travel thing, but not a surprise—Elizabeth would give anything to…_

He closed his eyes, breathing in the salt of the ocean, trying to quell the storm building in his chest. It hadn't hit him yet—not yet—and he didn't want it to. The ocean roared down below him, and he let it fill his head, the sound drowning out everything else.

_Kolya was right in front of him, one hand gripping Weir's jacket, pulling her towards the gate. He didn't have a shot, not yet. Not until McKay was out of the way. He'd already told Ford what to do. The rest was up to him._

_The Genii footmen were in front of him; he let loose on his weapon, bursts of light flaring in front of his eyes. He heard the sound of Ford's gunshots echo his own, and suddenly the Genii soldiers were down, and Rodney was running to the stairs. He tumbled forward, onto the ramp, watching the last of the free Genii struggle into the event horizon._

_It was only he, Weir, and Kolya. And he had a clear line of sight._

_Kolya turned, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth's waist and pulling her to him, using her as a shield. He was military through and through, and if John hadn't hated him so much at that moment, he might have admired that._

_The Genii commander didn't stop; he dragged Elizabeth, kicking and struggling, towards the gate. It wasn't easy and Kolya was barely managing control of both Weir and the pistol he had raised at John, who was stalking slowly up the gate ramp._

_That gave John the advantage._

_"I will shoot you if you don't let her go," John said coldly, his P-90 level. _

_Elizabeth's eyes widened, the fear palpable on her face. Kolya paused at the top of the ramp, drawing her closer to him, his expression stoic. "And risk hurting Doctor Weir?"_

_The arrogance of the bastard was overwhelming. Did he really believe, after everything, that he would let him just take Elizabeth? He'd underestimated John—underestimated them all, this entire time. That was his single, greatest mistake._

_"I'm not aiming at her."_

_The gunshot exploded through the nearly empty gate room, slamming into Kolya just above his heart. Any lower, and it wouldn't have caused the arms to spread—he would have pulled Elizabeth through the gate with him. Any higher, it would have missed. Any further left…_

_Elizabeth tumbled to the floor as Kolya floundered back, into the event horizon. As soon as he was through the gate rushed closed, and John was running up the ramp towards her, yelling over his shoulder at Ford to find Teyla and Beckett._

_She shoved herself up to a standing position, wearing a shell-shocked expression. He lowered the gun, holding out a hand towards her, hating the fact he'd scared her so badly. "Sorry about that, I had to…um…are you alright?"_

_Elizabeth swallowed, staring back at him as though she'd never seen him before. "No."_

_He had no response for that—he'd never been very good at comforting people. But Elizabeth Weir was strong—a lot stronger than Kolya, or anyone else, gave her credit for._

_He reached for her hand. "You will be."_

When he opened his eyes, clouds has passed over the dual moons, shrouding the sea below into inky blackness. He took a step back; something crunched beneath his boots, and he glanced down. The shards from the shattered stained glass window still littered the deck. He hadn't noticed it when he came out.

Anger flooded through him. She should never have left the control room. Her responsibilities should have kept her inside, until they were sure they were clear.

_Why did you move to the landing? Why didn't you stay where you were? All you had to do was stay with Rodney, until we were in hyperspace! Until we had the shield! Seeing the city fly…you could have waited, just one more moment…_

But she wouldn't have. The city had survived so much, and Elizabeth had been there to witness it every time. She wasn't going to turn away when the city flew. Atlantis meant too much to her.

_John held his breath as the Wraith Cruisers began to depart, zipping into hyperspace one after the other. A muted cheer echoed through the Daedalus, but John's attention was on the smaller ships, the Wraith 'darts', as Teyla called them, which weren't departing with the larger ships._

_Caldwell moved to the command chair. "Let's clean this up."_

"_Sir," the Weapons Officer glanced up from the console. "The remaining fighters are regrouping."_

_Colonel Caldwell turned to the young man, who was monitoring the activity in front of them. "Alright, take position, stand by for defensive fire."_

_John beat him to the punch. "We're not their target."_

"_Major Sheppard is right, sir," the officer replied, looking worried. "The formation is heading for Atlantis."_

_John didn't even need to need to hear the reply. He tapped the radio on his ear. "Elizabeth? You've got a problem."_

_Her voice sounded small, and tinny. "Yeah, we see that, Major."_

"_We're moving to intercept but I don't think we can get there in time." A Daedalus officer confirmed his fears._

_He heard her turn to the control room techs. A flurry of activity followed, with the Czech doctor, Zelenka, making some kind of observation about the speed and trajectory of the darts, which confirmed what John already knew._

_The Wraith were making a suicide run._

"_You better get that damn shield up!" _

_Atlantis went into chaos mode, with Rodney and Elizabeth exchanging hurried remarks about his ability to enable the ZPM in time to raise the shield. John listened with bated breath, helpless, his frustration mirrored in the faces of Caldwell and his crew._

_The screens to his left showed the incoming darts, their angle steep, their speed kamikaze. Just a few seconds more…_

"_RODNEY!" Elizabeth yelled. McKay responded at his mile-a-minute pace, yelling something about snapping, and suddenly the radio transmission went dead._

_John's breath froze in his throat; he turned to Caldwell, helpless. The Colonel, seated in the Command chair, tossed him a sympathetic look._

_Seconds passed. John tapped his radio. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard, come in."_

_Silence._

_He paused for a moment, letting the seconds tick by._

"_Atlantis?"_

_A flutter of panic rose in his chest._

_The crew of the Daedalus were typing away on their consoles, trying to measure readings. "We don't have anything yet, sir," replied one of the young tekkies._

_They couldn't be…she couldn't be…_

"_ELIZABETH!! I repeat, this is Sheppard—what is your status?!"_

_"We're still here. That's our status!" came the sudden, enthusiastic response. John felt an overwhelming rush of adrenaline at the sound of her voice._

_"Don't scare me like that," he breathed softly._

_"Sorry! What about the remaining Wraith fleet?"_

_He lowered his head, letting his shoulders relax for what felt like the first time in weeks. Caldwell tapped his comm, answering for him. "The remaining cruisers have withdrawn from the battle."_

_"Thank you, Colonel. Thank all of you."_

_"Glad to be of help. We're going to stay in geosynchronous orbit for the time being. Can we be of any further assistance?"_

_"We could use some help with the Wraith in the city."_

_"We'll send in some people to help with that. Daedalus out." Caldwell turned to John, a slight grin on his face. "Major Sheppard, I'm sure you're anxious to get back to Atlantis."_

_"Yes, sir. Thank you." John's expression must have said more than his response, because the Colonel didn't answer, just gestured towards the Bridge doors._

_The Daedalus beamed him down to Atlantis a few moments later, along with the reinforcements. The Atlantis expedition members were milling around excitedly, barely noticing the new slew of personnel._

_"Secure Stargate Operations," he ordered, taking a quick look around the city he'd thought, only a few hours before, he'd never see again. "Well, I'm home."_

_His gaze fell to the stairs, and he paused at the sight of Elizabeth, hands clasped, standing on the bottom step. She watched him for a moment, then moved towards him._

_John scanned her face as she came up to him, uncertain of what to do, or what to say. He had been sure he'd never see her again, then had believed, for that one moment on the Daedalus bridge, that he'd been right._

_She answered for both of them, standing on tiptoe to embrace him, P-90, tac vest and all._

_He froze as her arms wrapped around him, feeling a rush of jumbled emotion. The whole situation, everything that had happened in the last few hours, had turned their world upside down, and yet Atlantis was standing, and they were both alive. She was alive, warm and whole, and holding him._

_He raised a tentative hand to her back, drawing her just a little closer with his other arm, careful not to crush her against the equipment in his vest. _

_Elizabeth held him for a moment, then released him, looking a little shy, and regained her composure. "Yes, you are." She swallowed. "I truly thought…"_

_John grinned uneasily, cutting her off, still unsure of how to react. "Yeah, yeah, I thought the same thing about you a minute ago. We gotta stop that."_

_She smiled. "I'd like that."_

_As she turned to guide him up the stairs, he felt a little ashamed at not being more open. He hoped she didn't regret the embrace. _

_He didn't._

John raised a hand to his face, trying to wipe the memory of that moment, that triumphant moment, from his mind. It was too soon.

_Why didn't you just stay back? _

_Why didn't you just stay in the jumper?_

She wouldn't have. That wasn't Elizabeth. Elizabeth took chances—on people, on places, on situations. She'd never been afraid of the risks.

_Beckett shook his head, regarding the screens with trepidation. "They've begun to spread faster. We're losing her."_

_Teyla glanced over at him, worry etched on her face. Beckett turned back to the screen, watching the red, pulsing nanites as their numbers continued to spread through Elizabeth's body. _

_John glanced at his team, from Teyla's slumped shoulders to Rodney's stubbornly defiant face. Even Ronan—stoic, unemotional Ronan—wore a worried expression._

_They were preparing themselves. Preparing for her death._

_Anger flashed through him. Elizabeth had survived the encounter with the Replicators on their home world; she'd survived Niam's attack on her in the jumper. She'd survived the Genii; survived Wraith attacks and warring civilizations and exogenesis machines and whatever else this insane galaxy had thrown at them._

_She wasn't going to die for this. _

"_Not yet we're not," he muttered, moving away from the somber little group._

_A cry rose behind him as he unzipped the contamination chamber, stepping through into the narrow space where Elizabeth lay. _

_McKay was yelling at him. "Are you crazy? She could infect you!"_

_He grasped her warm hand with both of his own, bending down towards her ear, squeezing tightly with his fingers._

"_Elizabeth," he whispered. There was something going on behind him; Beckett was yelling something at his team, and he suddenly became aware of what he was doing, of how close he was to the nanites, of what they might be able to do._

_It didn't matter. Nothing mattered at that moment but her._

"_You've been infected by nanites. They're trying to take control of your mind and body."_

_Her eyelids fluttered for a moment. A whisper of something, across her lips. _

_She could hear him._

"_Don't let them do it. You have to fight them, so fight."_

"_Get him out of there!" Beckett's people were in the chamber, yanking him by his jacket, pulling him back. He held on to her hand as long as he could before they managed to get him out; Carson pushed past him, checking Elizabeth's condition. "Put him into isolation and run a scan immediately," the doctor snapped._

_John didn't struggle with them; he was aware of the danger and he wasn't going to argue now. _

_He didn't need to. Beckett emerged from the chamber with a scowl directed at John—one which quickly disappeared as he turned back towards Elizabeth's bed. John couldn't see her, but one of the techs holding him released his arm. Teyla had moved forward, as close to the plastic as she could, an overjoyed smile on her face. "You are in the infirmary. How are you feeling?" _

_There was a pause, and Carson moved to the edge of the plastic. "You never left." The jubilant expression on the doctor's face, as he turned back towards John, was all he needed to see._

John shook his head. That day, which had been such a triumph for all of them, wasn't a pleasant recollection anymore, thanks to Rodney's actions a day ago.

No one had been able to understand his position. Of course he hadn't wanted her to die. What did they think he was? But they also couldn't understand why they shouldn't have done what they had done. No one would understand.

No one but Elizabeth. He'd seen the regret on her face after she'd learned the truth about her recovery. It had to have been hard, seeing how they stared at her, glad she was alive but a little fearful of what she'd become.

He was the one she'd questioned the most, without having to say a word. He could see it in her eyes—eyes he couldn't bear to look into, knowing how she felt.

_Why did you let them? _

She'd become what she had never thought she'd be—a threat to Atlantis.

The march to the jumper, before the mission to the Asuran world, had been difficult for both of them. Walking by all the Atlantis personnel, watching them as they passed by—no one said a word; just watched as their leader marched away from them, half a hero, half a threat. Unable to be left alone with any of them, but the only one who could save them all.

It had hurt. It still hurt. The last thing any of the expedition members would remember of her, of the Weir they had known, was danger. It was worse than death.

"_Elizabeth…"_

_He couldn't see her face. She had her back to him, her arm outstretched, somehow keeping Oberoth on his knees, and the rest of the Replicators frozen in time. _

"_Get to the Jumper." _

"_You're coming with us."_

_Ronan fired an EM pulse at the Replicator leader, but it washed harmlessly over him. They'd learned how to overcome it. The only thing between them and the failure of this mission was Elizabeth herself._

_He couldn't see her face. _

"_I can't keep them frozen much longer!"_

"_We're NOT leaving you behind!"_

"_If you don't leave, right now, none of us will get out of here, SO GO!" Her voice, always steady, suddenly trembled. "THAT'S AN ORDER!"_

_Something inside him snapped, went numb. Something he'd forgotten, through all his time serving here, and on Earth. That knowledge ingrained in all good military, of the time when there was no more room for questions or arguments. A blind obedience that didn't think—just acted. _

_He hadn't experienced that with Sumner, or with anyone in the AF. Even with her. She was a civilian. He'd never felt the need to obey, only to comply, to cooperate, to advise._

"_Come on!" Ronan yanked on his TAC vest as a shot cleared the field Elizabeth was maintaining, striking near their heads. The Satedan retreated behind the corner; John rose mechanically to his feet, and did something he'd never believed was in him to do. _

_He left someone behind._

"_Elizabeth!" _

_The Replicators broke through her control as he took the final few steps to the hallway, and he caught a glimpse of her face as they took hold of her, whirling her around into their arms. She struggled for a moment, but it wasn't her own safety she was worried about. "Go!"_

_He turned the corner, breaking into a sprint, the image of her face burned into his memory._

He'd never forget it, the look on her face. He didn't quite understand why he'd obeyed so blindly; given up so quickly. _We never leave a man behind. _That had been his belief from the very beginning. He'd never broken it. It was what had gotten him here in the first place.

But he'd been able to leave Elizabeth behind. Of all the people on this expedition, anyone he'd every cared about…why her?

_Why?_

The reality threatened to crash in on him, and he struggled to hold the feeling back, letting the jumble of the events after they'd left—Colonel Carter, the _Apollo_, getting back to Atlantis and the landing here—continue to cloud his mind.

It wasn't good enough. The sky before him was clearing, the two moons becoming bright against the shadow of the night. Two moons instead of one; they weren't on Lantea, the window behind him was shattered, and Elizabeth was gone.

He'd left her there, alone.

The vista in front of him blurred, and he raised his hands to his hips, drawing in a breath.

Behind him, the door on the right side of the balcony opened with a soft whoosh. His heart hammered out hope within his chest, just for a second, that the voice which called out to him would be the one he'd always heard, the one he'd looked forward to hearing every single day for the last three years.

It didn't come.

He cleared his throat, trying to smile, and turned as Colonel Carter moved up alongside him. "There you are."

John gave her a wan smile and gestured with his head at the nighttime vista. "Two moons."

"Actually," she replied with a cheery grin, "there are five. It's just these are the only two visible to the naked eye."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Heard you and Rodney got us reconnected to the intergalactic bridge."

She wasn't fooled by his lame attempt at conversation, and they both knew it. But she respected his feelings enough to play along, and that was good for now. "Yeah, General Landry was understandably relieved to hear from us."

He raised an eyebrow, relaxing a little as she clasped her hands in front of her, letting him regain composure. "Hey, in all the excitement I forgot to congratulate you," he stuttered. She quirked her lips. Somehow, Sam Carter could make anyone feel comfortable, even when he was at his most awkward. "You're a full bird Colonel now."

She greeted the acknowledgment, and his half-assed salute, with a nod of her head. "Thank you."

There was silence for a moment as he thought of what next to say. Too much was running through his mind to be comfortable with asking anything, yet there was something he needed to know.

"So…are you sticking around?"

"No, General Landry wants Doctor Lee and I to gate back, give him a full briefing on the situation here. The _Apollo's_ going to remain in orbit for the time being in case you need any assistance."

He nodded acknowledgement again, feeling a little more at ease. "Hey, thanks for saving our asses back there from the bad guys. It was a risky move."

Colonel Carter smiled, genuinely this time. "That's nothing compared to the risk you and your team took. Frankly, I'm surprised you managed to pull it off."

The bluntness of her statement caught him by surprise, and the sense of comfort they'd just established faded away. His throat tightened. "We had a lot of help," he managed to choke out.

Her cheery expression faded, but she didn't turn away from him. "General Landry sends his condolences. He was deeply saddened to hear about Doctor Weir. We all were." Sam watched him anxiously, waiting for his response, probably hoping to offer some comfort or empathy.

She wouldn't get the opportunity.

"We haven't given up hope," he whispered softly. "If there's a chance she's still alive, I will find her."

Rodney would probably have scoffed at that. Ronan would have remained stoic, his typical response for anything that spoke of impossibility. Teyla would have given him that sympathetic look she had, the one that sought to encourage but was more than well aware of the reality.

Sam did none of those. She simply smiled, turning towards the nighttime sky, the two moons of Atlantis's new home glimmering in front of them.

"I know."

Even when she left him alone again, what she said remained with him. She'd done more than just placate him with those words. She'd given him back Elizabeth, just for a moment. Because while everyone else might have thought differently, Elizabeth wouldn't have. She would have said exactly the same thing.

_She would have had faith. Faith in us, and in Atlantis. Faith I would bring her back._

It wasn't an excuse. He believed now, as he had back then, the first time they'd come out on this balcony and he'd argued with her about getting Sumner back, that he could do it.

If he let someone go, he would find them again.

_I promise…I will find you._

The seas below began to smooth out, the rush of the water calming just a little. Atlantis would be anchored by the time the dawn rose, protected, hidden and safe. Just as Elizabeth Weir would have wanted.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing out here, but the air was getting warmer. The glass needed to be cleaned up, and he was sure Rodney was discovering all kinds of problems that the new ZPM couldn't quite manage—he wouldn't want to leave Carter to deal with him on her own.

There were decisions to be made about things, and some he wouldn't—couldn't make just yet. The heaviness weighed on him too much to be able to take it all on; but what he could handle, he would. He owed Elizabeth that much.

With a glance at the two moons, he offered a final prayer to the stars flanking them—whichever one was the home of the Asuran planet.

_Be safe_.

He gathered himself, took a deep breath, and walked into the control room.


End file.
